Blood Scent
by CassSkyler
Summary: "I think I killed someone." With those words, Mila Walker a patient of Dr. Hannibal Lecter captured his attention. She was telling the truth? Or is it just part of her imagination?. Lecter accompany her on a journey into her mind, for what purpose? To know if she is a monster or to transform her into one?
1. Chapter 1

_**Hi There, :3 … First, English is not my first language, I did this just to keep practicing my English and my writing. Originally it was in Spanish and I translated it into English. Don't judge me xD, I know that probably it have a lot of mistakes. But I'll be glad to clarify anything. If anyone wants me to continue let me know, review it… idk. If someone wants to help I'm open to suggestions, and I'll be glad to receive help. **_

- I think I killed someone. - Mila says awkwardly starring down at her hands, nervously, as if thousands of persons had their eyes over her. But it wasn't, she was only seen through the eyes of her psychiatrist the Dr. Hannibal Lecter. Who, to her surprise, wasn't impressed by all by the words of his patient. He just sat in his chair and grabbed his notebook with his pen while he limited to listen to her. When he did not say anything she felt even more nervous.

- This is just between us, right? – She asked

He nodded. - What happens in this room stays in this room, if not I would be violating the "doctor / patient" confidentiality. You, as a patient, are protected -.' Soaking his bottom lip while choosing his words carefully - you also told me that "you think", you haven't confess any crime. -

The awkward woman froze for a few seconds with her eyes looking directly at her psychiatrist, who was possibly the most peculiar man she has ever seen.

Lecter accompanied her in her silence and he also stared at her for a moment waiting to listen to her story. Rarely Dr. Lecter felt interested to listen to the problems of his patients, but this time he wanted to know more. Even he didn't understand why, but there was something about her that captivated him pretty quickly. And one of those things was her scent, the other one, her claim.

Although the woman was wearing the scent of a cheap perfume, he could perceive beyond that. Mixed with the scent of roses and jasmine with notes of musk there was the note that most fascinated him and awakened an appetite deep inside of him. A note of blood.

First he assumed that the odor could be from the loads of her menstrual flow. But no, the smell was identifiable, it was a peculiar odor, it has to be dried blood, he thought. It was a smell too familiar to him; it was the smell of death itself. That fascinated him, and unconsciously made him give a slight smile to the woman.

A rare slight movement on his lips that she passed as a smile, even though it made her blush, it made her feel a little comforted. But still she didn't know how to begin. Thus the Doctor decided to push a little more.

- Start by telling me, why you 'think' and you are not certain of what you just said?

- Because I do not remember.

- Then why are you telling me this if you are not sure, Mila?

Mila did not know how to say it despite the confidentiality. She thought that possibly since is something serious he would call the police.

- I don't know - she hesitated - I ... –

Mila – he frowns – If you don't tell me what's wrong, it will be impossible for me to help you.

Listen – she clears her throat – days ago, at morning I woke up with my hands full of blood, even my face – she moves her trembling hands up to her face covering it for a moment. He noticed how her nails were still with some blood. That confirmed him that she wasn't fine, but that actually she was telling the truth.

And since that I realized that my husband disappeared.

Lecter arched his eyebrows simulating surprise, since such things, like, violence or deaths were too common for him to feel any awe. But a case like this rarely happened with a so he felt curiosity. And without any reason, he wanted to help her.

-I assume you don't remember anything about the event, right? If not, you wouldn't be here sitting in front of me talking.

-That's correct…

- Have you informed the police of the disappearance of your husband?

- No...

He settled back in his chair again and then after clearing his throat he said:

- Tell the police as soon as possible.

She opened her eyes and arching her eyebrows. - You're telling me? ... - Raises the tone - To tell the police everything...? –

- Report his disappearance. Or you will be the suspect -

- But then, what about the blood?

- Since you don't remember what happened, limit yourself to talk about his disappearance. You are not lying; the reality is that you do not know where he is.

The woman's eyes turned a little watery, when in fact she was not crying. But she was very nervous, talking about something she never thought she would, with someone she barely knew, and he was more willing to help than she ever expected.

I suppose you're right - she hesitated for a second and then she replied.

Lecter without saying anything else, stood.

- Follow Me, Mila. -

She nodded, and followed him, until he guided her to his kitchen. He nodded pointing to the kitchen sink. She didn't understand for a moment, but then he opened the palm of his hand asking for hers.

She placed her hand over his large palm which in comparison was much larger than hers. He began to run the water and pulled the trembling woman hand cautiously, slowly, and took her under the water, she instinctively moved her other hand to water, he did the same. His fingers moved strategically to begin cleaning the blood from the fingernails of that temptation which was in with him in kitchen. Who was so weak, shaking like a frightened deer, so fragile and so tempting... and with a distinctive aroma.

As his hands touched hers, he felt a desire to have her over his table, to devour her ... make her be just for him… But it was too soon, so he contained himself and his the impulse caused by his hunger that was claiming her, craving her.

- You are suffering lacunar amnesia. In your mind there is just one gap. Possibly, due to a traumatic event.

- So ... maybe I did or saw something, that gave me a trauma?

- It's a possibility. But there is also the possibility that you...

- That I killed him ...

- Or maybe you just found the body… But we shouldn't jump to conclusions.. Actually you may be even acting differently than you were before that specific event... We call this ' Fugue State ' .- Lecter had noticed he was holding the woman's hands more than he should and realized that her slender fingers were completely clean.

You are telling me that maybe I…-

He interrupts her

Like I said, we shouldn't jump to conclusions . – Lecter grabs a small towel and helps the woman to dry her hands, as if she couldn't do it, he just assisted her - I'm just giving my medical perspective, Miss Walker. - He replied with a charming smile.

But none of this tells me anything ... And I feel that I actually did it... and... and...

He sighed and quickly threw the towel aside, and took one of the woman's hands and locked it between his.

-I will help you remember, Mila. -The psychiatrist said, thinking that this is something interesting, and rarely there's a case like this between the patients. And the banquet before him had to wait a little longer until he sates the appetite of knowing a bit more.


	2. Chapter 2: Boeuf En Daube

_**I took quite some time to finish this… I had this in Spanish way long ago, but the translation takes a lot of time. I don't have much ideas of how this will end… So, any suggestion is more than welcome. I need to say too, one more time, that English is not my first language, so if it's there any mistake, I apology in advance. If anyone read this, please, enjoy!**_

About 9:00 pm, Lecter was resting his elbows on his desk, while his hands were holding a tablet. He was reading the latest article published on . In the most recent publication, they were recounting recent deaths of a presumed serial killer. Lecter seemed quite entertained, because according to what he read about this criminal, he has some class, still he didn't give it much importance. Suddenly, he heard slight ringing coming from his kitchen. Sound, that told him that the food was ready. Then he went to the kitchen, taking from the oven a tray then placing it over the kitchen counter.

Already in advance he had prepared a dish with salad, the plate just lacked from his favorite part of the, the meat. But now everything was ready, so he filled his plate, quite gently. His dish had the same elegance as if he would like to impress someone, but he was all alone. In fact, he was impressed, he felt pretty proud of his culinary abilities.

To his surprise he heard another ring, this time it was not from his oven. The noise originated from the door. He sighed; he was ready for dinner and he couldn't deny that he felt kind of hungry. He looked at everything in the kitchen and he realized that he had enough food for someone else, so he thought that no matter who would be, he would invite that person to dinner. After rinsing his hands and take off his apron he went to the door.

He realized that he had taken longer than usual to open the door, and the visitor had not pressed the bell again, it seemed very strange but he preferred to give a check anyway. Seconds later with the door opened, there was, Ms. Walker standing in front of him.

You arrived with ... - he looked at his clock - ... twelve hours prior your session, Mila. - He smiled gently

Mila bites her bottom lip and looks down - I'm sorry, I shouldn't come. It's too late. -

Don't worry, if you came to my door is because you need to talk to someone, and this is my work... - He opens the door completely and invites her to come in gesturing with his head - Please come in. If is necessary, we will do the tomorrow session in advance.

-B-ut I suppose that…- she hesitated

-Please, come in – he insisted.

She finally entered, with a grateful smile on marked on her lips, even that deep inside her she felt the regret of what she was doing. But she followed him, and while doing it, her fingers squeezed a tote she was holding.

-Precisely when you called at the door I was about to start my dinner.

-I'm deeply sorry; I think I should go…

- No, no, don't worry, actually… Some studies say that having dinner with company is one of the most suitable ways to relieve the stress. Would you join me, Mila? – His insistent eyes stared at her waiting for an answer. It was a gaze that made her feel some kind of discomfort. He was demanding, intimidating, but extremely charming at the same time. More than that, she wasn't feeling alright, she wasn't hungry at all. She was experiencing some kind of knot in her throat that was making her feeling nausea. But she thought that she would be rude if she dismissed his offering. – Of course, Thanks. – She responded with a shy smile.

Lecter, responded back with a smile, and guided her to his dining room. He moved one of the chairs, and gentlemanly invited her to sit.

-I'll be back in a minute, Excuse me, Mila.

She was surprised to see how spacious and elegant this place was. For a moment she felt blessed and lucky to share that moment with the Doctor. Surely just a few patients had reached that place and had the opportunity to enjoy his food. Food, which according to rumors is exquisite. But this didn't make her feel completely better, because even though that the warmth and kindness of her doctor inspired some confidence, and despise that she barely knew him, there was something strange in his personality, something rare, but familiar.

She looked how meticulously Lecter settled everything on the table, elegantly, gently. He placed a bottle of wine, some glasses, and the cutlery perfectly aligned. Her eyes followed each one of his movements. She possibly had never seen in her life, scene so perfect, almost erotic.

He returns to the kitchen and returned seconds later with two plates; placing one of the plates on his side of the table and another in front of her. Then he sat in front of her, and served the wine in both glasses.

- Bon appetit- He said, and quickly began to eat, while retaining the same elegance. She in turn didn't know what to answer; she didn't know if there was a correct way to respond to that, so she just limited to thank him.

- Thank you - she said, while cutting a piece of the meat. While she was trying to be at the host's level of elegance but that was almost impossible. - It looks exquisite... - she said, as she took a piece of meat into her mouth. Immediately she felt in the meat texture something that she has never fell, she couldn't tell from which animal it came, but the flavor was nice, a little sweet - ...and tastes great what's this? -

-Boeuf En Daube- he pauses- chunks of beef tenderloin in a sauce consisting mainly of Burgundy wine and tomato. -

She has taste beef before, and for her it didn't taste like beef at all.

-This is really beef? I assume that this is a different type of tenderloin, because it tastes different. It's better that any kind of beef I have taste ever.

He places his cutlery on the plate, pauses and observes the woman for a second. No one has questioned his food before.

-Of course - he smiles - I'm in complete certainty that it was a curious calf. So it ended up on my table. – He said as he thought about that 'calf', and as he pulled out its organs.

-I did not mean to criticize your plate, on the contrary, I think you could tell me it's a cat or a person, and yet I would continue eating from this plate. It's that good. – She laughed a bit, but suddenly she realized that her joke was kind of inappropriate so he just blushed and just continued eating.

-Indeed it is ... - He smiles. Although he initially thought the woman had discovered something odd about the food. But he knew people well enough to know when they joke. Thus he decided to 'joke' too.

-Then, it's calf, right?

- I left that to your imagination – he did something he rarely does, he winked.

- Don't scare me, Doctor. – She turned her face down to her food one more time.

- Don't give me ideas Mila –He gave her a charming smile and then he slowly grabbed his glass of wine to take it to his mouth.

She looked at him one more time and saw that ritual between him and the glass of wine. She stopped eating without noticing. He noticed it, and deep inside him, his ego rejoiced, it was quite nice to see how that woman's gaze revered him. And he thought that she was pathetic.

When he looked back at her, she blushed and ate once again. While her thoughts were in the same topic, she thought about how pathetic she was.

Mila, tell me, what didn't allow you to wait until tomorrow's session? -

Mila, who looked quite relaxed minutes ago, changed her countenance completely. Remembering why she was in there.

-I was organizing my house, looking for things to help me remember and I found something that left me quite puzzled. -

Lecter narrowed his eyes slightly at seeing the facial expressions of the female.

- What did you find, Ms. Walker? –

-A notebook with some rather disturbing illustrations...drawn by hand -. Lecter achieved to notice how the hand of the woman who held the fork, shook, while she was taking the last mouthfuls from her plate.

-Do you have it with you? Can I see it?

She nods and looks inside her bag, taking out a black notebook from it then extends her arm nervously to him. He puts his plate aside placing the book on the table and then opening the notebook. As soon as he opened the notebook, he saw a hand drawn sketch. In the picture it can be seen the body of a naked man thrown on the floor, reclining against a wall, with marks on his wrists, neck, and other major joints of its body as if it were sewed. The feet were where it hands were supposed to be, his hands attached at the legs.

The drawings were quite disturbing for being made by a normal person.

He kept seeing more and more pages and each being more disturbing than the last. All are signed with the name "Abbaddon".

-Mila, I think you're married to a serial killer… -


	3. Chapter 3: Bloody Memories

_**Hello there. I'm here uploading the Chapter 3. I'm really glad that actually there are some people following the story. And even that I'm really not sure how this will end. I promise I will continu**__**e. I already made a Chapter 4, but it needs some corrections and translation. Sorry if I take some time to upload this one. I'm kinda slow, I know xD. **_

_**And again, I have to say, that probably there are errors since English is not my first language.**_

_**Suggestions are always welcome, like anything that anyone thinks it could be nice to see. I don't know. Any idea is more than welcome. Enjoy!. **_

_**PS. Let's Celebrate; Hannibal Season 2 Starts this Friday! YAY! **_

Mila's cheeks are wet, her eyes watery, as she watched at the road in front of her at this late hour of the night. The sky seemed to also accompany her sorrow, as it was copiously raining, making driving almost impossible to her. Tears clouded her eyes, rain clouded the way. Questions were clouding her mind. She wondered about: What if Dr. Lecter's assumptions were right? What's she going to do? What happened to her husband? Is he alive? And from where that blood of her hands came from? There are so many questions and possibly she knew the answer of all of them, but her brain just blocked them. And that made her feel angry, frustrated, and above of all, scared.

Shit - said hitting the steering wheel hard enough to make the claxon emit a loud sound – Shit!- she exclaimed hitting it one more time.

- Mila, let me drive- Lecter interrupted who was in the car in the passenger seat. – Clearly you are not alright to do so.

- I'm fine - she said denoting instability and a little discomfort in her voice while still she keep driving faster than she should and with tears running down her cheeks. Lecter sighed, for his part; he did not like it when someone is rude to him. But for now, not until he knows a bit more about all this, all that desire to do something about her bad attitude was suppressed, and the rudeness of the woman was answered courteously. He turned to look at her, followed he reached out and his fist touched Mila's cheek, caressing it gently. The touch of his skin against hers soothed her significantly.

-Mila, let me help you. First, please, stop the car- He asked with a charming, calming but strangely dominant voice. Mila's car speed dropped abruptly without any hesitation to park the car at a corner of the road. When the car stopped, she laid her head back to the seat and with one hand covered her face and began to mourn.

- Mila, look at me. - He grabbed her arm and pulled it slowly. She did exactly what he asked, and looked back at him, still with her eyes full of tears.

- You are in a constant battle with your mind, the more the pressure, the less it will yield.

-I-m S-cared… - She said, looking at Lecter. He from his part limited to give her a slight smile, as he passed his hand over her head in order to comfort her.

I will help you, Mila, for now, just let me drive. – This time, Mila didn't complain, she just nodded, like if he just had some kind of hypnotic power over her. He came out the car, and she did the same. Even that it was raining, he waited for her with the door opened until she went back inside the vehicle. They switched sides. After that, Mila from her part adjusted her GPS dispositive, configuring it in direction to her house, and then she just huddled against the seat, because still mourning a bit, and now she was feeling cold, since her clothes were slightly wet. She observed him for a while, while he was driving guided by her GPS.

- You must take it patiently. The mere fact of not being able to remember is affecting you too much, Mila. You must keep in mind that possibly a traumatic event caused the amnesia in you. When you remember it, it will be just as powerful and destructive than the first time, and you must be prepared.

But Mila did not answer. Lecter looked at her and saw the woman, asleep, shivering from the cold, so pathetic, so vulnerable. It was almost a utopian view to see a front of him the "food" in such an easy way to get it. It seemed ironic that when had things so easy, he currently had no plans to finish them, not at the moment. He even almost felt sorry for the poor and miserable woman to the point that as soon as the car stopped at one of the red lights of the road, he took off his coat and covered the woman with it.

Minutes later, the car stopped. He looked to his side and noticed that the young woman was still asleep. He got out of the car, opened the passenger door and bent down a little before her.

- Mila wake up, we arrived. – He said in a soft voice, like a whisper. Mila quickly awoke; with sleepy eyes looked at the man before her, for long seconds. And she thought about the fact that this man is the one that is being her guide among all this horror. Still smelling the masculine scent of the coat, she looked at him and nodded, rejoining completely. Feeling a bit ashamed of having a piece of his clothes, rapidly she gave it back to him. Without saying another word, they walked to the house and entered it.

As soon as they entered to her place, he thought about how this house doesn't look like the home of a woman like this one. At the first time Lecter knew her, at first he imagined her as a more simplistic woman, living in a modern lifeless apartment. But even though she lived in an old house, it was a pretty classy place.

A home says a lot about the people, and this place was just saying that she has always known how to appear in front of the others, how to exclusively show only what she wants others to see even that deep inside her, there's something more. Part of him was surprised that he didn't realize that about her way before. But in the end, even she was missing parts of her life, maybe the interesting ones.

-It is a warming and cozy place.

- Thank you, Would you follow me, Mr. Lecter? So I could show you where I found the books. - She walks around her house, guiding him, while Lecter carries his hands inside his pockets, at each step studying everything around him. Until both ended to a completely different room in the house, a room that looks the opposite to the rest of the house. A dark, dirty room completely abandoned. In it, there is an old bed, a bookshelf and two chairs. She pulls a chair and puts it in front of the bookshelf he does the same. Each takes a notebook in their hands. All contained grotesque drawings of people in horrible situations. The book Lecter was holding was more of a notebook. And the first page that he managed to read, it says:

"_I'm ready, but there's Mila, and she, she keeps me for doing anything. I have to stop her. _

_Mila, Mila, Mila, _

_Let me live._

_I need to breathe._

_She only sees the monster, but, she is the same or even worse than I am. Even though she won't accept it, she is my my other half, she is part of me. Everything is her fault. I can't breathe, I can't be myself._

_Mila, Mila, beautiful,_

_Let me live._

_Leave me in peace. "_

Lecter frowned, while he keeps reading the small notebook to himself. He noticed how the book had way more notes, written in a weird manner. He observed Mila, while was paying attention to the book she was holding, like if she were trying to decipher every single page of it. He took advantage to take two other books and at the same time to hide the notebook inside his coat without her noticing about it.

As soon as he took another book and looked at it, he noticed the same tendency. The pages were full of drawings of murderers as described by the media, some of them extremely accurate and some of them extremely graphic, not that it affected him in any way. He even felt flattered when he realized that the book contained some covering about some of his work. Some of the other illustrations had the same patterns, probably for the same person. Lecter thought too, that there was so much material in the books to be from just one person. He clearly could be a fanatic or in fact a serial killer, inspired by others. And for some reason, he was included by the second thought.

He was a bit lost in thought, when suddenly the sound of one of the books falling took him by surprise. He looked at Mila; she was kind of lost, with the eyes wide opened and with her eyes, just staring at the ground. He placed the books back to their place and immediately he crouched just in front of her.

- Have you managed to remember anything? - He asked, with no response. - Mila ... –

Without responding back and no matter that he was there just in front of her she stood, and walked quickly, he stood too to follow her. Until they reached the basement of the house, where there was a strong smell of blood. But there was nothing, just the scent of blood and rot.

Mila began to mourn, almost losing the air, beginning to tremble, and grabbing her hair, pulling it hard.

- Mila , Mila - calm down ... Lecter brought his body to hers , placing his arms around her , quickly looking for something out of his pocket, a small bottle that bore the name RAVOTRIL, placing the dropper against her lips. Slightly inserting it in her mouth and depositing the liquid inside it.

After a minute, she felt a little dizzy, and simply fell to his arms. Then he delicately assisted her to get to where he thought it was the main room of the house, leaving the woman over the bed.

She felt everything like if it was a dream, but with him she felt safe, and amid the confusion, she felt bad and guilty of having to bring a good man like this one into her crap. Then everything turned black.

Her sleep was deep; a whole night passed, but for her it was like minutes. But that night, everything was peace, into the nothing.

The next day, she enjoyed those first minutes in which nothing is remembered from the previous day. And then quickly her first thought was about Dr. Lecter. Mila, without even brushed her teeth, went down the stairs and searched around the house ending up in the kitchen. And there she saw a scene that she never thought to see. Breakfast on her dinner table, and that man sleeping in one of the dining chairs lining himself on the table with his elbow and resting his head on the palm of his hand.

And again she regretted having gotten such a good man in her twisted life.

_**PS. I forgot to mention that this "happened" before the series. Every time I write a fanfic, I don't like to destroy what is canon. So I don't think Will will (lol) appear in the story. But probably some of the other characters will appear. **_


	4. Chapter 4: What are you afraid of?

_I'm back, after a year with an update to this __fanfic! I'm sorry for being so slow… but English is not my main language and sometimes it's kinda a pain for me to translate. If anyone will read this. I hope you enjoy this short chapter. The next chapter is written already but in Spanish, I will publish it as soon as possible. _

Mila, was facing a table with two plates with an 'exquisite looking' breakfast and front of her a good man, a great one, responsible of this token of kindness.

She bent a little in front of him and had the audacity to touch his face. His face was exotic, quirky, emphasizing his cheekbones that made him strangely attractive. Mila thought for a split of a second.

She moved the thumb of her right hand slightly waking him up.

— Hannibal, Hannibal— the woman said shyly, thinking that perhaps he would take this as something disrespectful. Her, calling him by his name without them knowing each other much.

He slowly opened his eyes, and quickly showed awake, as if he had not fallen asleep. For Mila, that action seemed not human.

— You have been asleep, if you want to rest a little, you can. — She said timidly — there is a vacant room upstairs.

— And let you eat your breakfast alone? It would be rude of me. — He smiles.

— Alright — she responds with a smile, sitting on a chair.

Following her, he also accommodated himself, sitting on the opposite side of the small table.

She looks at her breakfast. A vision that impressed her a lot. That breakfast seemed to be out from one of those cooking magazines that she used to read in her leisure time. She wondered how and why he did all this. Especially she wondered how he got all those ingredients because her refrigerator was nearly empty.

— I had no juice. — Mila frowns.

— You had some oranges inside the refrigerator. — He replied with a faint smile

— I had no ham...

— You had a few pieces of meat that I took the audacity to use. I hope you don't mind.

— I'm sure that I had no meat. — she responds insistently. He stops eating for a few seconds and observes the woman.

— You should look to your fridge more often, Mila. — He answers, but retained that strange grim smile. Mila meanwhile felt a little intimidated, she felt that she was bothering him with her persistence.

And for some reason she thought that she wouldn't like to see that man angry.

Because despite of him being a really charming man, there was something different about him, something that she could not decipher. Like if he were hiding something. But what?

— Maybe you're right. I'm sorry. – She smiled nervously, then continued enjoying the breakfast.

— By the way, your food it's really delicious. — Mila said in an attempt to lighten the moment.

— Thanks Mila. By the way, how do you feel this morning?

— I feel ... — Mila paused, not having full knowledge of what to answer. She placed the cutlery over a small napkin besides her plate, then dropping her arms to her lap. And while she was looking at the remaining pieces of the food on her plate, she tried to recount in her mind the events of the previous night. — To be honest I'm a little confused.

He stopped, and his eyes went just to her.

— From everything you saw on those pages, which images was the one that left you in this condition? What kind of memories they brought you?

— I remembered something… and that memory ... Oh God ... I ... — ... She paused and supported her elbows on the table with both hands covering her face.

— What happened Mila?

Mila said nothing, her lips suddenly pursed and her eyes were becoming watery, she stood up and walked out of the kitchen. Lecter quickly followed her. Until he reached her just right at the hallway and grabbed her arm, to stop her from leaving the house without saying anything.

— Tell me everything. You can trust me. – her psychiatrist paused, with his eyes on her. — You know you can trust me –he emphasized.

— He recreated everything in these books… — she said with some hesitation — and at some point, I came to realize that. Because I feel like I saw all this before… That's all I just remember.— She paused and holds both hands to her head, pulling her hair — So, I assume that I tried to stop him at some point ... But ... I really don't remember anything else ... Dammit ... I'm so…so afraid ...

She tries to go out the door once again, but again he grabs her arm to stop her, pulling slightly for her to turn around. She does so, he puts both hands on the cheeks, stroking her skin with his thumbs.

She lowers her eyes nervously. He moves his fingers slowly stroking the skin of her rosy cheeks.

— What are you afraid of, Mila?

I don't know ... — she paused, and squeezed her eyes in an attempt not to mourn — Oh... Christ, I really don't know.

— Do you fear the possibility of killing him, or do you fear that very well you could have been complicit?

She raises her eyes, and moves her face away. She didn't want that someone that is accusing her to look at her and even less to touch her.

— Are you accusing me? — She asked incredulously

– No, Mila— he smiled —

— I am in no right to judge. I'm just here to help. You want me to help you remember, right?

Therefore, we have to consider all the possibilities.

— You're right ...— she replied hesitant

— In the condition that you are, we know there are many gaps. Sometimes you even seem to remember your husband completely. And we need to know why. There is a period of time where you do not remember many details. I infer from the little we know and the only thing we have certain ... — he pauses and soak his lips with his tongue — In a way or another, you filled your hands with blood.

She looked at him for a moment, not knowing what to say. He was right.

— And what if I did something wrong?

What if I'm a bad person — she said denoting fear in her words, while some tears filled up in her eyes and ran down her cheeks.

— I'm in total certainty that you're not a bad person.

— We don't know that — Mila insisted .— you know, I think you should, go, forget all this and not get involved in all this crap. — She lowered her gaze — even I do not understand why, you have not considered calling the police.

—Mila I'm here to help you. Not to complicate things more for you.

— But in exchange you will end up complicating yours. — She paused, drying her tears again, trying to regain her composure. — And I don't want that. — She took a breath — then, I will prepare, I'll drive you to your office and… we will just forget all this.

— He didn't say anything, he simply nodded. He didn't want to insist, he just kept silent as he looked at her going upstairs. And he waited. Not just for her. Deep inside him, he was waiting for something else. And for some reason, for some strange reason, there was a smirking on his face.

Minutes later, Mila went back, wearing her nurse uniform.

— I'm ready

He opens the door, smiling. — Ready to work, Mila? I think that some work is an adequate therapy to clear up your mind.

She followed him, and as she was locking the front door of her house she replied:

— But, sometimes I think that it would be better not to remember anything.

— I differ… Is healthier if you get to know yourself. Your true nature is inside you and sooner or later, it will be seen. – he moistened his lips with the stroke of his tongue — I think that ignoring what you are or not would be counterproductive.

As they walked to the garage she answered him:

— Doctor, regardless of how the blood ended up on my hands, I'm sure it's something that will not be repeated.

— I know, Mila. — he said with a slight smile on his face. A dimmed smile that she didn't realize.

They both arrived to the garage. As soon as Mila opened the door, her eyes widened automatically. She shook and cried at the smell of blood and the disturbing scene in front of her and all over her car.

— What the hell happened here? — She cried.


	5. Chapter 5: Wurstebrot

_**Uploading a new chapter in celebration of the new season. Please remember, English is not my first language, so it may have a lot of errors. I'm always open to ideas and suggestions. Help is more than welcome! Thanks for reading… !**_

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><p>A grotesque scene, the product of a sickened mind.<p>

That was the morning show for Mila.

She turns, and looks at Lecter terrified. Quickly the physiatrist approached her, surrounding his arms around her body. Mila trembled, but his grip for a few seconds made her feel calmer.

The view was bizarre, so much so that it had created quite an impression. Although it was almost ready to bring another memory. The woman let go from his grip, to look back to the horrifying scene before their eyes.

Mila's car was formerly white, but this morning it was dyed in a deep red color, and the smell that came from it was an unbearable one. A trickle of blood ran down one of the wipers which was erect with the head of a man impaled on it. At the sight of this scene, Mila turned and pulled out her phone from her bag. Her hands trembled as she nervously dialed nine, and before touching the number one key, Lecter's hand rested on Mila's shoulder and he said:

— I do not think it's a good idea, Mila. You have a missing husband, original artistic works from someone fascinated by the macabre, blood in your basement and now a dead body in your garage — He stood in front of her and placed a hand on hers, the one that was holding the mobile phone.

— Are you sure it's a good idea to call the police?

Mila thought to refute, but he was right, possibly everyone would think that she was related to all these events, since she was the common denominator in all of them. Mila simply sighed.

— Maybe you're right — she said, placing her phone back in to her purse. She slowly stepped forward, ignoring the presence of Lecter, just thinking what she could do with all this mess in her home.

Her hands trembled a little, even her eyelashes moved to the beat of her hands. And likewise her voice was trembling, feeling a lump in her throat almost cutting her air way. The whole situation frightened her, she was afraid that the head impaled in the windshield was her neighbor's, and that sooner or later everyone would realize, he was gone. And what was she was going to do? But above all she was afraid by the incredible serenity of Dr. Lecter.

— God ... And...now what? — She turned around covering her face for a few seconds, trying to process everything.

— We, by ourselves have to take care of this. Mila, do you think you can do it?

She turns and looks at the horror in front of her, once again, crossing her arms, then closing her eyes for a couple of seconds.

— I don't know — then looking at the scene before her. — I really don't know ...—

But her answer was enough to continue.

— Could you bring me a few bags, Mila? — But Mila meanwhile, for few seconds didn't know what to say, the ease with which he took things was really disconcerting. But she preferred to not say anything, she didn't even questioned him, she simply nodded, and went back inside her home, in order to search for the bags.

She quickly approached a small drawer in the kitchen, opened it and pulled out a few bags. Then she sat at the dining table for a few seconds to take some air.

And there, she thought that something was changing inside her.

Mila questioned herself. In any other moment of her life, she wouldn't care about the consequences, but she would do what is strictly correct. She would call the police, not caring if she would end up as the suspect.

But what stopped her this time? Why did she felt responsible for this? Does her husband, as it was claimed by Lecter, was only nearby, stalking and as an emissary of death, leaving destruction in its way, only to leave a message? There were so many questions, and not the slightest idea how to answer any of them...

— Mila ? — Lecter whispered, as he placed his hand on Mila's shoulders.

She didn't answer, she simply stood, turned around and nervously offered the bags to him.

—Trust in me, Mila, I'll help, but I need a hand with this.

— Let's go, Doctor.

Minutes later they were in the garage. Mila's sight was still fixed on that head.

— Hold the bag — he said with complete naturalness. She frowned but without protest she did as he asked, and opened the bag in front of the doctor. For a moment she thought that for this it was way too naturally.

He held the head and with his already blood tainted hands he turned the head around, to look at the dead old man straight to the face. Mila didn't notice any sign of empathy from Lecter's part. Not any emotion at all. She thought Lecter had the same expression of a veteran butcher after the slaughter of a cow.

— Please ... Doctor ... — she said a little uncomfortable, about to beg him to throw the head to the bag. But, he didn't respond immediately, Lecter looks at her and makes a slight movement on his lip, which she felt passed as a smile. That made her feel way more uncomfortable.

— You ... Mila, you're a nurse, right?

— Yes, doctor, but ...

— Eventually you will see worse ...

For a second she turned her head, as he is placing it carefully into the bag, then she looks back at him, with concern in her eyes for his last words.

— I was surgeon for a long time, Mila ... some of us have had the opportunity to see every corner of the human body.

— Therefore, nothing impresses you.

He did not answer, just smiled and tried to take the bag in his hands. At that moment, there was a rose from his fingers with hers. Although her hands were shaking and they were stained with partially dried blood; Mila thought that perhaps this was the most intimate moment she had shared with any man in her life. What could be more intimate to hide a corpse with a man? What could be more intimate than sharing a secret on which both lives relied on? How could that almost feel good?

She sighed. How could she even be thinking about that? Among her memories, truth was that she never liked her neighbor, but she didn't remember why... Mila, only remembered, that she always imagined that he would end in a similar way.

Mila had been distracted for a few minutes.

— Mila. ..

She shook her thoughts away. Never in her life could she rejoice in the death of another person, even though she disliked him.

— The rest of the body is left, we have to keep picking up the parts...— He expressed, interrupting her train of thought. Mila almost forgotten about that detail. She sighed and covered her face with her left hand.

Meanwhile, he walked around the car, inspecting each inch of the vehicle.

—The one behind this, is just playing with me… — Mila sighed.

—The door is open, Mila. — Lecter alerted her, while he pausedly opened the driver's door. Ignoring what she said previously.

She was doing the same, surrounding the car, but in an opposite direction.

—This one is open too...— she said quietly, like if she were scared that everyone could hear them. She was quite intrigued by what they could find, possible under the car's seats. Since over them, there was just blood. Only blood.

While she was looking under them, she hears the voice of Dr. Lecter.

—I don't think this is a game for him. — He cleared his throat — he may try to say something. This is some kind of message. Do you have any idea? This doesn't give you anything you can embrace as a memory?

— I wouldn't ever do som... OH GOD!— impressed, disgusted, she tossed a foot out of the car. And while she was still squatting, the glove box opened, and another part of the body fell over her. She threw her body falling back, sitting on the ground, and the body part, or rather, the dead man's penis, followed and rolled until it hit the ground, right in front of her.

— This can't be a message! He is having fun with this! My God! – she cried disgusted.

And Lecter just smirked.


End file.
